Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Married people -- Fiction; Seafaring life -- Fiction; Whaling -- Fiction
Noll flung out his hand. "Be off. Your sour face is too ugly for me to
look at. Mauger's none so particular.... He'll drink with me."
It was true; Mauger had more than once accepted drink from Noll. Noll,
at these times, watched the one-eyed man furtively, almost appealingly.
It was as though he sought to placate him and make a friend of him.
Mauger had a weak head; he was not one to stand much liquor. It dizzied
him; and this amused Noll.... This day, after Brander had refused him,
Noll sent for Mauger and made the one-eyed man tipsy, and laughed at the
jest of it.
Then, one day, this state of affairs came abruptly to an end. Noll went
down into the storeroom to fill his bottle; and the spigot on the
whiskey barrel gasped and failed. The whiskey was gone.
Now Noll had given of the rum to the crew; he had exhausted that. But
the whiskey he kept jealously. He knew there should be more.... Much
more than this.... Gallons, at the least.... He turned the handle of
the spigot again, tipped the barrel, unable to understand.... His bottle
was half full.... But no more came....
He frowned, puzzled his heavy head, tried to understand.... He came
stumbling up out of the storeroom at last, with the half-filled bottle
in his hand.... And the man's face was white. He sought Faith, held the
bottle out to her.
"I say ..." he stammered. "It's gone.... Gone, by God...."
Faith asked sharply: "What is it, Noll?"
"The whiskey's gone."
Faith cried: "Thank God!"
He stared at her thickly. "Eh? You had a hand in it.... You've stole it
away...."
"No."
He looked at her and knew she spoke the truth. He shook his head....
"Some hound ..." he whispered. "They've stole it...."
She questioned him; he had the shrewdness which occasionally
characterizes the alcoholic. He had kept some count of the whiskey used
during the cruise; he had himself handled the barrel two weeks before.
It was then a quarter full. The thefts that had appeared in the
fo'c's'le could not account for the rest. There was still a considerable
amount that had been stolen, that had not yet appeared. "It's aboard
here, by God," he swore at last. "They've got it hid away. You,
Faith...."
She shook her head. He said placatingly: "No, you'd not do that trick.
Not rob an old man.... I've got to have it, Faith...." His eyes
suddenly flickered with panic. "It's life, Faith. Life. I've got to have
it, I say...."
He was right, she knew. There must still be a hidden store of the liquor
aboard the _Sally_.... To be doled out to the men by the thief in his
own good time.... And Faith knew enough of such matters to understand
that Noll, without the ration of alcohol to which he was accustomed,
would suffer torment, would be like a madman.... The stuff must be
found....
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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